The cellar is quite, cool, dry.

The pain inside, the hate and anger, all hidden

From mortal eyes they are forbidden

Locked away in a big gray room

Kept under lock and key

Hidden away...

Until this day

The floor shakes

The earth quakes

The bottles fall,

The glass brakes

Broken bottles, empty

Shattered all around me

The hate, pain, and the anger flood the room

And i'm right in the middle

Then the bottles

Oh, the busted, broken bottles

They will refill and be replaced

With more and more...and more

More hate, pain...more anger and rage

Waiting...Waiting for the next big quake.